


Buffalo Dick's Wild West Show

by zarabithia



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-23
Updated: 2006-08-23
Packaged: 2019-05-19 15:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14876619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: Dick/Roy, re-imagined in the late nineteenth century, wherein Dick is Buffalo Bill and Roy is Annie Oakley.





	Buffalo Dick's Wild West Show

When Richard Grayson was eight years old, he stood beside his sobbing mother and his irate father as their two-faced manager Harvey Dent carried away the last of their worldly possessions. The cigar chomping man had alternately snarled and laughed, using fancy words that young Richard’s Romanian parents didn’t understand.

Richard hadn’t completely understood, either, though his grasp of the English language had been far more advanced than his parents. But he had understood that Dent’s actions had taken the circus away from his family. In the weeks that followed, Richard also came to understand that Harvey’s actions had been responsible for driving his father to toil in the factories of Luthor Corp and that his father’s acrobat blood hadn’t been cut out for factory work. When his father had died, Dick knew instinctively that it had been from a broken heart. His mother had never argued that diagnosis, and four weeks later, she followed her husband. Though Young Dick could have spent his life as one of many wayward street youths that had to fight, steal, and beg just to keep his stomach full, fate had smiled down on the young orphan. His second attempt at pick pocketing had been out of one of Gotham's richest's pockets. As a result, young Dick had been well provided for, under the protective guidance of kindly Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s resident philanthropist and Wayne’s close friend, muckraking journalist Clark Kent.

But regardless of Dick’s material comforts, he never forgot the betrayal of Harvey Dent, nor the circus life Dent had taken away from him. Dick swore upon his parents’ graves that one day, he would reclaim Haly’s Circus. Though it took him thirteen years to honor that vow, with the help of a very generous loan from the Wayne estate, Dick was able to keep his promise. 

Unfortunately, a lot had changed in thirteen years. The breathtaking excitement of the high wire and the blood thumping thrill of the trapeze had given way to the "realism" of the Wild West shows. Though Dick found such displays ridiculous, he couldn’t bear to lose Haly’s Circus again, so he tried to keep up. He added Wild Jason Todd in a skit about the lawlessness of the Wild West, bareback riders Grace Choi and Jesse Quick, Indians galore, and a skit about the Pony Express in which he himself rode around on a horse and in general, made an utter fool of himself. He even added several cages of buffalo next to the lions and elephants. The profits did rise, he gained the nickname of "Buffalo Dick," and the general public reaction was very positive. But Dick was a Grayson, and at heart, Graysons were master showmen. That hadn’t changed in thirteen years and the inner showman knew that though he'd done his best in keeping up with the changing tides of the circus world, he knew that _something_ was missing. He eventually came to realize that his missing _something_ needed to serve as a transition between the wild elements of the circus that Dick loved from his childhood and the more realistic "gritty" Wild West elements.

That _something_ was currently standing in the field below the bleachers on which Dick sat. That _something_ was covered in buckskin and aiming his rifle towards the clay pigeons with a bored kind of nonchalance that the crowd lapped up. 

His name, according to the announcer, was Roy Harper. He also had a flashy boy partner who seemed to be drowning in buckskin. The kid looked ridiculous standing next to the older man whose costume slid over his body like a second set of skin. Dick would have been quite enamored by it, really, if his ringmaster mind was too busy coming up with circus-appropriate names for the man. The Amazing Archer? No, that was stupid and they had enough _amazings_ in the circus as it was, between the Amazons and Aqualad and Aquagirl.  
  
"Enjoying the show?" Clark’s voice asked from beside him. 

"Mmhmm," Dick agreed. 

"Well, don’t enjoy it too much. Kingpin is funding this operation and-"

" ‘Kingpin?’" Wayne interrupted. "Why do you insist on assigning such comical names to the criminals of society?" 

"Because it’s what captures the public’s attention," Clark argued. "And only once the people’s attention is captured can these criminals be brought to justice."

"It didn’t seem to have much affect on Dick’s attention," Wayne observed.

In all honesty, Dick really _wasn’t_ listening. His attention was instead devoted to the man currently exchanging his rifle for a bow and arrow. . Which brought Dick's attention right back to an appropriate name. The man was an awfully quick draw. . . Speedy? Dick discounted that immediately. It was _lame._

_A bow and arrow_. Did anything short of Wild Jay’s two matching hand pistols embody the Wild West so perfectly? Yet, the way Harper turned his head to wink at the crowd, the fantastic smiles he threw at his oblivious partner and the jaunty feathered little cap that so gloriously mismatched the buckskin all signaled that Mr. Harper _belonged_ in the center ring - Dick’s center ring.  
  
Apparently, this was obvious to Clark as well as Dick, because when the show was over, the reporter leaned over and whispered, "Don’t you think you should go talk to him now?" 

"Yes, and do watch out for the vile _Kingpin_ ," Wayne added sarcastically.

Dick heartily complied, but apparently, Roy wasn’t as impressed with Dick. The little sure shot - hey, that was pretty good, as far as names went - walked right by Dick’s proffered hand and right into the waiting arms of a black-haired female fan, whose dress certainly didn’t cover her ankles like it should have.

But Dick was nothing if not persistent. Walking up to Harper, he tapped the red haired man on the shoulder. Dick was immediately rewarded with a kick in the shins for his efforts. The kick came not from Harper himself, but from the kid shooting partner he’d had. 

"Ow!"

"Hands off," the child, who couldn’t have been older than thirteen, instructed.

Harper looked vaguely amused at Dick’s discomfort, but he waved dismissively at the boy. " ‘Sokay, Tim," he told Dick’s little assassin. Then he turned to look at Dick, revealing form fitting pants and a red shirt that Dick was already making costume revisions to in his head.

Trying to ignore the pain in his shin and focus instead on the smirk of the man in front of him, Dick extended his hand. "I’m Richard Grayson."

From behind him, the little boy gasped. Harper noticed immediately. "Met this fellow before, Tim?"  
  
"Roy, don’t you know who this is?" Tim asked Harper. 

Roy shrugged and the black haired woman behind him tightened her grip. Dick distinctly heard her tell Harper to hurry up, but more importantly, he distinctly saw Harper ignore her. "Can’t say I do, short stuff."

"This is _Buffalo Dick_ , from _Haly’s Circus._ And omygosh! I’m awfully sorry I kicked you."

"That’s okay," Dick lied, even though his shin still hurt.

"Buffalo Dick, eh? Come to think of it, I seem to recall takin’ Tim to see the show last time we were in Boston. Not a bad little dog ‘n pony show."

Dick bristled. "We are _not_ a dog and pony show," he corrected icily.

Harper rolled his eyes and leaned further back into the black haired woman’s arms, which Dick took as proof that he was loosing ground. "Fine, so you’re not a dog ‘n pony show. Was there something I can do for you, Mr. Grayson?"

"I want you to be in my show." Oh, damn, he hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that. Bruce would be ashamed of him, acting like he had never been taught anything about business.

To Dick’s dismay, Harper laughed. "Right. Tell me, Buffalo Dick, where exactly do I fit in? With the Amazing Furry Beast Boy or with your ridiculous depictions of the Indians? Next to the Human Spider, perhaps? Or better, with the Bird Man and Girl? Or maybe Wild Jay ‘n I can have ourselves a shoot off? "

"Actually, you’d be the transitional phase - between the Wild West Show and the Flying Girl Wonders," Dick enthused. He noted that the little kid's eyes lit up at the mention of the Flying Girl Wonders, and wondered which of the three were the kid's favorite. Katherine and Barbara were a good deal older than him. . . maybe Stephanie?  
  
Unfortunately, Tim's enthusiasm wasn't shared by Harper. "Look, we've got a pretty good gig here and besides, Tim and me, we don't do long term engagements."  
  
"Roy!" Tim protested. Dick was careful to note that it was Tim's protest that garnered a reaction from Harper, and not at all the satisfied smirk of the black-haired woman.  
  
Was that the angle he needed? Either way, Dick tried to focus on the business advice that had come from both his fathers - when you see an opportunity to strike a bargain, _seize_ it. "Does that apply to Fisk as well?"  
  
Harper scowled. "It goes _double_ for Fisk, the back-stabbing bastard."  
  
"Good. Then whatever he's paying per week, I'll pay you double." Dick was willing to admit that paying double the price wasn't _exactly_ the type of deal either of his fathers had in mind when they had been trying to teach him about bargains.  
  
Dick's offer received a gasp from the black-haired woman and the little kid. Harper merely looked at him skeptically. "Do you have any idea how much that is?"  
  
"Do you have any idea how _successful_ Haly's Circus is _?_ " Dick retorted.  
  
"If you're so successful, why do you need me?"  
  
"A good showman is always looking for ways to improve his show," Dick quoted his father verbatim, and felt that familiar tug on his heart.  
  
Harper rubbed the substantial red growth on his chin. _Red. . . Red Arrow?_ No, that was worse than _Speedy._ "I don't think-" he began.  
  
"Roy!" the kid protested again, earning him a glare from Harper. When the kid returned the glare, however, Harper gave a sigh of resignation and shrugged out of the woman's grasp. She protested, but Harper didn't seem to hear her. This made Dick rather indescribably happy. "We've got another week of shows under contract with the Kingpin."  
  
"That's fine," Dick said immediately. "I'd be happy to give you a tour now. And if you like what you see, you can join the show next Friday when we play Boston."  
  
"If I _like what I see,_ eh?" Harper gave Dick a once over glance that made Dick's pants feel even more snug than the ones the red-haired man wore. Dick tried really hard not to _show_ his blush. Judging from the glare of the black-haired woman, he wasn't entirely successful.  
  
Deciding to chalk it up to yet another lesson that he hadn't learned very well from Bruce, Dick cleared his throat. "Are you ready?"  
  
Harper ruffled the kid's head affectionately. "Tim's part of the act," he clarified.  
  
"Okay." Dick didn't add that they'd have to get a better costume. The kid looked _awful_ in buckskin. Maybe they could rework Dick's old costume some way.  
  
As they walked away from the black-haired woman, Dick gave his best Bruce Wayne impression as he commented lightly, "Your lady friend is quite striking. What's her name?"  
  
Harper shrugged. "Dunno."  
*********************  
  
It turned out that Roy Harper was damnably hard to impress.  
  
The man didn't like anyone or anything at Dick's circus. He wasn't impressed by Raven the Marvelous Magician. He rolled his eyes at Scott Free, the Escape Artist and Free's assistant, Big Barda. He _doubted_ Garth and Tula's ability to breathe underwater. He actually believed Gar, Jennifer-Lynn, and Kory were all wearing _body paint -_ as though Haly's Circus would ever use such trickery! Outside of several impolite suggestions to The Amazing Amazons which had resulted in Diana breaking the man's nose, Harper hadn't shown any interest in Dick's circus at all.  
  
Even more incredibly, Harper had started a fight with the man who cleaned the animal cages. Dick had never met anyone who didn't like Wally West. _Bruce_ even liked Wally, and the only other person Bruce liked was Clark.  
  
By the time the three of them sat in the stands watching The Flying Girl Wonders rehearse their act, Harper still hadn't come around, and Dick could feel his new star attraction slipping away. Despite Tim's utter joy - at well, every part of the circus, really, but especially The Flying Girl Wonders - the older man's feelings were what truly mattered if Dick hoped to snare them for his act.  
  
When The Wonders were finished with their act, Harper at least gave a courteous little clap that didn't seem very heart felt. Dick's heart sank even lower when he ruffled Tim's hair and instructed, "Tim, why don't you go get little Miss Flying Wonder's autograph, okay?"  
  
The kid nodded eagerly and all but tripped over the front row of seats to reach Stephanie's side. Dick waited until Tim and Stephanie were out of listening range before commenting, in his best optimistic Clark Kent impersonation, "So. . . what do you think?"  
  
Harper leaned backwards onto his elbows to look up at him. His ponytail had come undone during the day's events and several stray strands of red fell across Harper's face. Dick had to focus really hard on the business issue at hand to keep from leaning over and brushing the hair out of Harper's face. The urge was only exacerbated by the creaking of _those pants_ stretching in order to accommodate the red head's movements. "Grayson, don't take this the wrong way, because you seem like a hell of a lot nicer guy than Wilson Fisk, but-"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Um - huh?"  
  
"You're going to say no? Why not?"  
  
"Look, it's nothing personal."  
  
"I can hardly take it any other way. It is _my_ circus you're rejecting."  
  
"It's not because of you. I just - look, you want me to come on after Wild Jay and with the Flying Girl Wonders, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And shooting the plates out of the girls' hands while they're in mid-twirl-"  
  
"Mid- _flight,"_ Dick corrected."You don't like it? From what I saw, you could make the shot without any trouble."  
  
"Oh, I can _make the shot,_ Grayson. But a man's gotta be able to trust his partners, and your Flying Wonders' timing was off fourteen times. That's fourteen times one of them could have gotten seriously hurt or killed. And that's not a risk I'm willing to take."  
  
Dick winced. "I know their timing isn't the best, but maybe if we skipped Stephanie's attempt at -"  
  
" _No."_  
  
"What about the tightrope walker? Bette's never fallen, even once. I'm sure we can rig something to her balancing-"  
  
"Do you know how boring that would be? I've seen your show, Grayson, and I know how slow your tightrope walker is. It'd be like hittin' a target that doesn't even more. What challenge is there in that?"  
  
Dick hung his head dejectedly. "Well, I guess there's nothing I can say to change your mind."  
  
Harper sighed. "I dunno - look, Timmy mentioned that you used to be an acrobat. That right?"  
  
"Yeah." And, yes, as it turned out, the kid had known an awful lot of information about them. It was quite unsettling. "But I don't do that anymore."  
  
"You must miss it," Harper surmised. "After all, it's a lot less ridiculous than riding around the ring making an ass of yourself."  
  
"Yes," Dick agreed, on both counts.  
  
"Tell you what. Show me what you got."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Get _your_ ass up there on the bars-"  
  
"The _trapeze."_  
  
"On the _trapeze_ then. And show me what you got. Let me see what kind of shooting partner _you'd_ be."  
  
Dick felt his face betray him again and flush, despite his best efforts. But he could do nothing else but comply with Harper's request.  
  
*********************  
  
Roy spent approximately three minutes watching Grayson perform far more impressive tricks _by himself_ than the rest of the entire damn circus put together before he made his decision. Oh, there were some mindless idiots throwing the bar to Grayson, but it was Buffalo Dick that sealed the deal. It was also about that time that he noticed Tim's attention had been diverted away from The Flying Girl Wonder by the kid who sold stuffed animals at one of the stands. Roy didn't blame Tim. The kid was cute, in an overly obvious way.  
  
Not nearly as cute as the sweaty, frustrated showman that stood at Roy's feet following a rather impressive acrobatic routine. "You weren't paying any attention," Grayson accused.  
  
"I payed enough attention. Who's the kid trying to corrupt Timmy?" Roy asked, waving in the general direction of the two boys.  
  
Grayson scowled at him before answering. "That's Conner. He's practically a little brother to me. He's not going to _corrupt_ anyone. He might actually teach Tim some manners, which he clearly isn't going to learn from _you_."  
  
_My, my, we get a little saucy when we think we aren't going to get our way, don't we?_ Roy hid his delight at how much _fun_ this trip was going to be by shrugging and answering, "If you think I'm a bad influence on the kid, you should see the old man."  
  
"Oh. . ."Grayson apparently forgot that he was upset as he sat down beside Roy. The acrobat reeked of sweat in the way that made Roy want to beg to be allowed to join his show, but that would have ruined the fun he was having. "You and Tim are brothers, then?"  
  
"Nah. His parents were some well meaning, but stupid missionaries that got themselves shot. Mine died in a barn fire." Roy frowned at the memory, then shrugged it off. "We both had the fortune, or misfortune, depending on what you want to call it, of being taken in the same man."  
  
"You don't sound as though you were on very good terms," Grayson commented softly. Miraculously, the man actually sounded as though he gave a damn.  
  
Well, as long as the other man was pretending to care. . . "Let's just say his parenting skills weren't the greatest. The man travels the world, preaching the Gospel, but can't be bothered to see what's right in front of his nose."  
  
"Wait - you were raised _by a preacher?"_  
  
Roy chuckled. "Hey, I didn't say Ollie- or Hal- were _good_ preachers. I think they probably lost the right to that claim when they started selling moonshine after the services."  
  
Grayson's eyes widened for a minute - prim and proper man that he was, no doubt - before his eyes crinkled up into a laugh. _Ah, so you do have a sense of humor. Was wondering about that._ "I would imagine so. And so. . . you brought Tim out on the road with you to . . . save him from your father's influence?"  
  
"Nah. Ollie's not abusive or anything. But Tim was entering his rebellious stage and I figured it was going to be a lot rougher than when Hal's son Kyle decided to paint yellow polka dots all over the pews or -" Roy stopped when he realized that telling the other man all about _his_ rebellious period wasn't the best idea. "Or anything I ever did. So, the kid came with me. When Ollie gets a little older, he can think of it as my way of thanking him for taking me in."  
  
"Aw. That's very sweet."  
  
Roy rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Don't spread it around, Grayson. 'Sweet' is the very last way I want to be thought of around here."  
  
It took a minute, but the realization eventually set in on the other man's face. "You mean -"  
  
"Oh, yeah. We're joining your show. Didn't I mention it?"  
  
"No," Grayson commented dryly. "You didn't. What made you change your mind?"  
  
"I liked _what I saw."_ Damn, it was easy to make Grayson blush. Roy was pretty sure that had several advantages he needed to explore in depth during the time of his employment.  
  
"I-I'm glad. Um, we'll see you in Boston, then?" Grayson extended his hand.  
  
Roy stood up and shook hands, like the proper gentleman he wasn't. "Three conditions - Tim's always part of my act, you're my shooting partner, and double Kingpin's current salary."  
  
Grayson nodded. "Absolutely. Oh, we didn't discuss living arrangements or anything. Um, obviously, we all share a cramped living space and -"  
  
"I'm sure there'll be several _perks_ to the job that'll make up for that. Don't you think so, Boss?"  
  
Saying that Grayson blushed at Roy's words would have been entirely too much of an understatement. It would have far more accurate to say that the man was _still_ blushing when Roy joined him in the center ring a week later.  



End file.
